Asterix the French
by Dawn Totadile
Summary: A WW2 twist on the comics, so pardon my poor translations on both French and German, folks. Basically I got inspired by Randomfics story: Changing of the Guard. Hope ya like, and yeah, it'll take me a long time for this, but dudes, it's Asterix being told in a closer to our timeline setting. Just try it. (You complain about the magic potion, Getafix whacks ya with a spoon. got it?)
1. Asterix the French part 1

Almost the entirety of France had been taken over by the Nazi's as the second world war started. Almost. One small town that had been standing since longer than anyone knew still managed to hold out against the entire forces of the third Reich. The town had no name and was rarely, if ever, found on a map. Most just simply referred to it as the Village. Some would refer to it as "The Everlasting Village" as it seemed to withstand the test of time, and all those who opposed it.

In the year 1940, after a long struggle, the French had been conquered by Germany… maires and other people in positions of power such as the mayor Vercingetorix, were forced to lay down their arms at the feet of the Hitler and his men. The war waged on with the inclusion of the British and other "Minor" countries in comparison to the might of the Third Reich. All of France had been conquered, save for one small village, The Everlasting Village, or Le Village Éternell.

All efforts to subdue these proud Frenchmen failed, leaving Hitler to ask "Warum?"

Zooming in onto the village, one would find a young man with blonde hair tucked under a black barrette and a large thick mustache with bright blue eyes. He wore a dark black leather bomber jacket with white wings on his collar. Under his jacket was a black t-shirt with a green belt that had three gold buttons on the front. His red pants and brown shoes were dirty and had obviously been well worn. He stood at about four foot six, being one of the smallest people in the village at the age of 35. He smiled as he cleaned up his tiny airplane at the edge of his village. He was preparing for a quick supply run.

A large man that wore the simple smock of a delivery man over his well built body was walking past with a smile. "Be back soon, Asterix?" He was about seven feet tall and large enough to make an entire pool or lake empty out if he were to do a cannonball. He was definitely… Well Covered… He wore an old helmet on his head that had been passed down for generations and some overlarge jeans that went all the way down to his brown boots. His red hair stuck out from behind in a single ponytail with a black bow tying it up nicely. Obelix was truthfully a gentle giant, and happened to be the country's leading supplier of a large rock like object that was called a Menhir, the secret of making them having been passed down from generation to generation from before the time of Caesar! When he wasn't making the strange stone structures, he would be found repairing the buildings around the village, being the strongest man in the village itself.

While many didn't know why they wanted a Menhir, or its purpose, people often found comfort in the strange stone after it was around, as though it would protect them from dark magic while they had to worry about everything else.

"Just going on a supply run, Obelix. I'll be back in time for dinner." Asterix smiled as he replaced his barrette with an ancient looking helmet that had wings carved on the side and a set of goggles attached to it. He was also wearing an old looking tannish flight suit as he made his way to a landing strip. He then climbed into the small two seater spy plane that was known as an ANF Les Mureaux, a small plane that was used mainly for spying or night air raids and bombings. The plane was known as "The Flying Menhir", another of Obelix's choices. "Wish me luck!" Asterix called out as he jumped into the cockpit and Obelix left the landing strip.

Asterix smiled as he started up the plane and took off for a patrol around the village. The plane flew over the four German encampments that were nearby and holding all of the supply routes hostage. The people needed something other than the fish that were caught off the back side off the village's cliff, or from its beach. Asterix whistled a calm and jaunty tune as he flew dangerously close to a small supply caravan that was making its way towards a German camp. Not all Germans were bad, the villagers knew, but it still didn't help them to keep their land. The supply caravan noticed Asterix's plane, what with the menhirs and boars painted on the wings at the insistence of his best friend, Obelix. He couldn't refuse him much. Besides, it was pretty cool anyway. The Germans started to fire upon the plane, which dodged every attack that came at it, diving and spinning with skills that surely should have destroyed the plane under normal circumstances. Asterix manned the guns near his flight controls and managed to disable all the Germans before landing in a nearby clearing. All the Germans in the light convoy were either knocked unconscious, or bleeding with disabled legs and arms with only a couple of casualties. Asterix walked on over to the remnants of the convoy with a bag over his shoulders and an old MAS 1873 revolver that he had gotten from his Father and his antique shop for his birthday just after the last world war.

"Bonjour, boys. Welcome to France. First time in the area?" A few of the younger ones nodded slowly as they nursed their wounds, trying to figure out what just happened. Asterix smiled like he was just greeting tourists. "Well I'm afraid you drew the worst of the lots. Our village just happens to be pretty stubborn." Asterix made his way over to the truck and started filling his bag with supplies that they could use, mostly food and medicine. "Thanks for delivering the goods by the way. Nearest camp is about 50 kilometers south of here, or you could go to the one that's east and is 70 kilometers away from here and closer to Germany. You're choice of course. Whatever you decide though, you'd best hope that the others don't catch you. They're more hands on in their greeting." Though obviously a cheerful looking fellow, the short man scared all the Nazis around him. "Oh, and do yourselves a favor, don't mention the camps around my people if you don't want to end up like the ones you shove into them, eh?" Asterix chuckled as he finished filling his bag with enough supplies for at least two weeks till the next convoy came. "Nice meeting you boys." Asterix did a comical little bow and walked off.

One of the German officers who had only been shot in the knee somehow, pulled out his gun and tried to shoot at the short blonde pilot as he walked away. His shot missed, of course, and before he could take another one, Asterix had already shot his hand, causing him to drop his gun and cry out in pain.

"Oy, I'm trying to be hospitable here, Nazi. Take your men and leave. We don't want you here. Next fool to shoot at me gets it between the eyes." The jovial smile on the short fellow was replaced with angry glare that sent pure fear into the soldiers. Whoever this was, he wasn't normal.

Asterix smiled as he landed once more at his landing strip just behind his old hut. The building had been through a lot, as had most of the village. Thanks to some old supplies and blue prints after the initial bombing that had gone through the country, the village had decided to go with an old fashioned and easy to repair building plan of stone and wooden huts with thatch on the top. Much to their surprise, their quaint little huts were actually very comfortable, easy to repair or change up in any way they wanted, and tended to keep out the cold in the winter and heat in the summer. The ancients really did have something with the plan. There were still some modern conveniences, but due to being cut off from pretty much the rest of the world, the village fell into what some would call a Barbaric state.

Obelix smiled as he saw the plane land and slowly made his way over, his deliveries and repairs done for the day, save for one, but Geriatrix could wait for him to talk to his friend. He waited until the plane was stopped completely and then made his way over, passing the old shack that stood as the hanger. "Hello, Asterix. Anything interesting?"

"Not really, Obelix. Just a few new Nazis. Heh, one tried to shoot me from behind. Missed of course." Asterix grimaced as he pulled the bag out and sorted out a portion of the bag for himself and a portion for Obelix. "Here ya go."

Obelix smiled. "OH, Pork!" Pork was of course, Obelix's favorite. Unfortunately, wild boars had all been scared off by the war, though many would argue that none had been seen in centuries. Obelix and Asterix had always somehow managed to provide for the village in tough times during their 35 years of life, even in wars and famine.

Asterix smirked at his best friend's childish nature. "Yep, the rest of it goes to Getafix and Vitalstatistix to sort out." He checked the fuel gage of his plane before jumping down with the bag. "I'll put my share into my hut and then we can go see Getafix. I need more of our super fuel anyway."

"Okeydokey. I'll get the gas canister." Obelix grabbed a large black barrel in one hand, and a small red canister that made it easier to pour the gas into the plane for the smaller of the men. "Do you need anymore of his special medicine while we're there?"

Asterix thought about it as he looked at a water-bottle that was hooked onto his flight suit. He hadn't used any yet today, save for a small swig to allow him to carry the heavy bag of supplies and dodge any bullets while he got the supplies. "Hmm… I'd best get more. I haven't had my gourd filled all week, so it has to be near low now. Let me get out of my flight suit real quick." Asterix made his way to his hut, and came out a minute later in his usual attire, though he still favored his strange looking flight helmet. "Hey Obelix, what if I put pigeon feathers on this thing? What do you think?"

Obelix chuckled deeply as he thought about it. "I think you'd look just fine, Asterix. Though the others might think it's funny." That was just Obelix's way of saying he found it funny.

The shorter man chuckled as well. "Who knows, now let's go talk to the doctor, eh?"

The village doctor was an old man, almost ancient in looks, but the spring in his step always made them doubt it. He wore simple doctor clothes, had a long white beard, and was balding on the top. He also had a set of spectacles on his large nose and was only about a foot shorter than Obelix. Dr. Getafix Carnute was a strange man, but a kindly one at that. He had arrived in the village only a few months before Asterix and Obelix had been born, and had been the secret to the village's survival through the current crisis; a super fuel for their planes and other machines that were fuel based, and an elixir of sorts that made the drinker super strong, almost invulnerable!

One of the ingredients that the villagers knew was important was Mistletoe, of which there were still plenty of trees full around the village. Asterix and Obelix made their way over to a tree just outside the gates of their village, another thing that had stood against the test of time it seemed. The tree seemed to be rustling, no doubt from the spry old doctor working up there.

Asterix called to get his attention; "Oh, Getafix! Oh Doctor!"

"YIPES!" a cry came from out of the tree just before the old man himself pulled himself down with a frown and a bleeding finger. His hand that wasn't bleeding seemed to have a strange golden sickle in it, probably another artifact, goodness knows the old man loved artifacts. "Asterix! You made me jump and cut my finger with my own golden sickle…" The old man pouted much like a child as he sucked his finger clean of blood while tying a small cord around the mistletoe he had gathered so far.

Asterix felt slightly ashamed of that, as he hated it when the others in the village got hurt, especially because of him. "Sorry… It's just that, I need more of the super fuel for my plane, and… I might also be low on the medicine…" He murmured the last bit, feeling still embarrassed that he had caused his friend to hurt himself, even if it wasn't that bad of a cut.

Getafix sighed. "Very well, come home with me boys, we'll get you sorted out." He placed his mistletoe into a large brown satchel as he walked back into the village.

Getafix lived in a hut at the far end of the village that seemed to be backed up against a large oak tree that had to be older than any other tree in the forest, if not the world. No one had gone into the hut since Getafix moved in, and even then, they had only been allowed into the medical ward, which seemed to be the entirety of the hut. The last time anyone had gone past the door at the end, Obelix had gone in and fallen into the "Medicine", which had a permanent affect on him, causing him to have an amazing amount of strength and speed, while also causing him to have a faster metabolism, meaning that he had to eat more than most other men.

Getafix thought about something as he paused outside the second door in his house, the one that led down to his lab. "Tell you what, if you boys behave, I'll let you look around the lab. I can't lift that bag anyway." He indicated to the bag of supplies that the two had brought in with a smirk. The two looked at each other before nodding eagerly. "Hehe, alright."

The trio entered the back room which turned out to be in the center of the tree, which was still alive and seeming to grow around the entire lab! In the center was a large fireplace with a bubbling cauldron of all things. Asterix and Obelix looked at each other with a grimace. Obelix had fallen into a cauldron, but no one believed them when the two said it was a cauldron. So, everyone always believed it was just a big pot, which it was in a way.

"Now let's see, first we'll fill up the gourd with some magic potion, and then we'll fill up the containers with it for gas…" Getafix mused to himself as he added in some mistletoe to the light green bubbling concoction. He stirred it for a few minutes until the green bubbling liquid gave off a bright goldish tint. He smiled and momentarily forgot that he had told the village it was a medicine, not a potion. "And here is the potion that will make the drinker invincible – ten times stronger than any normal man, at least temporarily, hehe." Asterix handed over his gourd in a hushed awe so Getafix could fill it.

Getafix then had Obelix pour the rest of the contents into the gas canisters, neither of the young men bothering to question why the medicine also went into their engines as they had learned long ago to not question the doctor on such things.

Asterix did however have a question to ask. "What exactly is the recipe, O' Doctor?"

Getafix chuckled and shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't tell you, Asterix. It's a secret that's been handed down for years through oral tradition, meaning from one voice to another. The only thing I can tell you, is that it has Mistletoe and Lobster in it, hehe, though the lobster is an age old joke that just adds flavor."

"Jeez, how old is this recipe?" Obelix asked as he attempted to take a taste, just as he always did.

And just as always, Getafix whacked the taller man with a ladle before he could have a drop. "NO, Obelix. You know better. You fell into it when you were a baby, and to have any more of it could be disastrous!" Obelix shook his hand that had been whacked while muttering an apology. Asterix merely rolled his eyes as his friend had just attempted the same stunt he always did when they went to get medicine. Getafix then sighed, "As for how old the recipe is, it is said to have been created in the time of Julius Caesar, but no one is certain." He hid a smile under his long white beard, as it was indeed certain, and he was honored to bear the name of the original creator of the potion. Perhaps that was why he had been destined to be the only one to ever perfectly replicate the potion? Who knows.

Back at the German camps, arguments were starting to arrive with the latest confrontation against the Frenchmen. "I thought der was supposed to be cowards!" One officer complained as he was being bandaged.

The one who had tried to shoot the short blonde man growled. "Not these ones, or at least this one. Herr Frenchman shot my hand faster den I could blink!" His hand was tightly wrapped in a bandage.

"Ja, und did you see him fly? Die Fuhrer vould be furious!" One of the gunmen complained with a busted leg. It was a miracle any of them had survived it seemed.

One of the older soldiers who had been around longer just growled. "Short, blonde man? Flying a small plane?"

"JA, dat vas him! You know him?"

"Ja, dat vas Asterix, die French Village's main warrior."

"Him? He is so small!" One man shouted. "How could he be der main warrior?"

"Some say he has a magic potion."

"Ha, ve are not to be believing zis!"

"Der ist kien such thing!"

"Zat is impossible!"

"Und yet, here ve are, complaining about those who should be no trouble to die third Reich!" The Kommadant of the camp, Kommadant-Weihnachtsgratifikation scowled as he came upon the sorry lot he had as soldiers. He was slightly portly, but got away with this, as most of his men were out of shape or unperfect in some way, which was probably got them sent up against the crazy French town in the first place. "We must find out vat der secret ist! One man against all four trucks is no joke!"

Leutnant-Kommandant Marcus Ginatonic, a tall black haired man who was quick to think, then spoke up. "Ve should send a spy! Then er can steal der secret!"

"Herr Ginatonic ist correct! Who vill be der spy?" The commander asked, but no one volunteered. The Kommadant scowled. "Well denn, since no one vill volunteer, ve shall have to play a game of Ente-Ente-Gans to choose!" The men all groaned as it meant that they were to be humiliated for not wishing to go on such a mission. It also meant that their commander had already chosen his victim.

Sure enough, at the end of the game, Parteiminderjähriger, one of the young soldiers who could speak French, had been selected. He didn't want to do it though and was threatened to be sent to the camps if he didn't. In the end, he was dressed up as a poor French man and tied up to look like they were going to drag him somewhere.


	2. Asterix the French Part 2

In the French village, a stout man was standing on the shoulders of two men in an old beat up looking jeep. "… and so, those Nazis have been quiet for far too long, men. Keep on your toes! And remember to keep up with your medicine!"

"Long live the chief!" one of the men cried out in excitement.

"Long live Vitalstatistix!"

Vitalstatistix smiled, his orange hair looking like a mess, just like every other man in the village, his mustache thick and strong. He wore a funny captain's hat on his head, the kind that looked like a hill or hump. He also had a worn looking uniform that looked similar to that of a commander, and he had been a veteran of the last war. He wore over large brown boots, and had a small funny cape on his uniform. At his side he had an officer's sword that he had the blacksmith of the village sharpen.

"Chief!" came the voice of the village stone cutter, Obelix. Truthfully, he was a menhir delivery man, but since no one remembered what menhirs were for, some just referred to him as a stone cutter.

The chief got down from his spot and stood on the ground, being of average height for the village, he was still a good foot or so shorter than the man. "What is it, Obelix?" The chief was always slightly concerned about Obelix, as was the majority of the village, knowing that though he held an unnatural amount of strength, he was highly sensitive, much like a child, and that the man needed to eat more than the others because of his metabolism. Obelix also rarely went to anyone other than Asterix for problems.

The chieftain's worries dissipated when the large man-child started to pout like a child. "They won't let me have any of the medicine. It's not fair! I feel rather weak…" which might have been concerning, had the man not been saying that while carrying two of his menhirs right behind his back, one in each hand. The chief and a few others had to stifle their giggles.

Asterix, who was easy to miss due to his height, took a glance at nearing footsteps and cried out, "HELP! It's Cacofonix, the village bard!"

Since days of old, Le Village Éternell had always had a bard. The bard was a teacher, musician, singer, and many other things. In fact, it was indeed an important part of the village's culture, but UNFORTUNATELY, Cacofonix Assuredatourix couldn't sing for the life of him! The man was tragically tone deaf to his own cacophony of music. Whoever had named the boy, they had set his fate, as the kind hearted bard could play like a genius, but his singing, if you could call it that, was as horrible as a cat crying and a dog howling all at once! Sometimes the strange bard's singing would bring about rain and storms!

Cacofonix was a nice enough fellow, the teacher of the young since before the war had started, and had a natural knack for music, so long as it didn't involve singing. He was perhaps one of the smartest men in the village, other than Asterix and Dr. Getafix. He just didn't know when to quit while he was ahead. The village liked him enough, just so long as the man DIDN'T SING!

Cacofonix had bouncy blonde hair, and like all the men in the village, sported a thick mustache. He sported a blue and white checkered blouse with white pants and blue shoes. He also wore a small red cape, to make himself look important, as most bards did. In his hands was one of his instruments, his French horn (of course). His bright blue eyes lit up as he looked upon his fellow villagers. "I will now give you a song to inspire you warriors with courage…" He was about to start when the majority started to flee. Cacofonix sounded almost as horrid with his horns as he did with his voice!

"Can't stop…" Asterix said as he started off back to his airstrip. "Have to take care of my plane!"

"I've got no end of menhirs to deliver, not to mention houses to repair…" Obelix seconded as he left.

"Oh heavens, it's getting late!" the chief started off towards his house where his wife would be waiting, no doubt with chores for him.

"Barbarians! They don't appreciate my art!" Cacofonix scoffed before heading back towards the second oldest tree in the village, which housed the bard, along with all his instruments. Whoever had built the thing, whenever that had been, had certainly built the house to last! It, along with some of the other houses, like Asterix's, Obelix's, and Getafix's, were so old, even the village elder couldn't place how old they were!

Back at the Nazi camp, the men were laughing at the poor unfortunate soul that had been "volunteered". The man had a red wig that had stupidly long pigtails on it, and a fake mustache that was made from a broom head. He was dressed in some faded pink long johns that had polka dots on it for some reason.

"This is humiliating…" He groaned as they chained him up, getting him ready to go. He was to call himself "Parteiminderix" just to blend into the strange village, of which all the men ended their names in "ix". The chains were tightened as he was dragged off. "HEY! Watch it! I iz only pretending to be French!"

The German soldier was dragged off through the forest towards the village, which was only a few miles away. He was to be "executed" near enough for the French to find him and rescue him.

Amazingly enough, at this time, Asterix and Obelix were going hunting. The two never used guns, as they much preferred the ways of old that would less likely scare off their prey. Asterix was currently wearing his black beret rather than his favorite helmet, as he was still thinking of adding feathers to the old thing and wanted to look for the perfect ones. Obelix was just joining because he was Asterix's best friend, and there was always the chance that the two of them would run into either some wild animals, such as boar, not that the village ever understood how or where they found them, or they could find some Nazis!

Obelix loved a good tussle with the Nazis. It was a game to him. Asterix and the others didn't really have the heart to tell him the cold truth so long as it didn't really affect him. Asterix didn't mind a good fight, it's just that he was the more responsible of the two and knew better than to think the other side wouldn't kill if they had the chance. Thankfully, with Getafix's special medicine, all the village didn't have to worry so long as they stayed mainly inside of their armored walls made of ruined German tanks and other things the Nazis had tried to throw at them.

As they walked through the forest, Asterix noticed Obelix was getting bored. He smirked as he looked around and kept moving with the larger man behind him, somehow managing to be just as stealthy. "I could just do with a nice fight, eh, mon ami?"

Obelix smirked as he realized that Asterix had caught onto his mood. "Oui, but you can't count on it, the Nazis are starting to get cautious after all those knocks to the head…" which was putting it lightly really, but then again, Obelix really never did try to kill, gentle soul that he was. If he ever did kill by accident, the others hadn't let him know the man was dead, just knocked out. After all, he was Obelix, could YOU tell him he just ended someone's life and live with the consequences? Asterix couldn't, and neither could the others of the little village. Besides, it was safer for him this way anyway.

Suddenly, Asterix stopped, signaling to his friend to do the same. "Wait a minute!"

"Hm?"

"Ssh!" Asterix suddenly got serious again.

"But…"

"I can hear footsteps, chains clanking… someone wailing!" The two French men were shocked. Asterix started climbing a tree with Obelix right behind him as though it was nothing. "Let's hide at the top of this tree! We may soon be loosening up our muscles!"

"My God, I should have stayed at home! I wish I'd never been drafted into the army! My skin's not worth a mark, and I'll never be able to eat black forest cake like mother used to make…" The disguised German muttered in French so that the others didn't know he was whining. It would also help him as he needed to practice.

"Will you shut up, Parteiminderjähriger. Der practice is all vell and gut, ober you vill get us all caught!"

"Isn't that part of der plan?" one soldier asked foolishly.

In the tree nearby, Obelix and Asterix were looking down at the group of about five soldiers with guns, and the chained up "French" man who looked like he had been caught in his bed. "Nazis, with a French prisoner!" as there were no other type of prisoner to get around this area. Obelix was excited for a fight.

"We'll rescue him." Asterix assured him as he smirked. 'Poor fellow's probably scared half to death being dragged all the way out here!' They only waited a few minutes for one of the men to come under them before sounding the charge. "Here we come by God!"

"Hier kommen sie durch Gott!"

It only took a few minutes of throwing punches by Obelix, and a few quick shots from Asterix, before the group was unconscious or wounded. None dead this time, luckily. "They're a little soft today, don't you think, Obelix?" Asterix asked as he let the remaining conscious Nazis take their fallen comrades back to camp.

Obelix nodded solemnly. "Yes, they're off form. They should take care of themselves… eat a well balanced diet!" As though that was the problem.

"That's the lot of them…" Asterix sighed as he holstered his gun once more. He didn't mind a little brawl, but he always hated going into an actual fight with Obelix in danger. Not that the taller man couldn't handle himself, no, quite the opposite. Asterix was more worried that one of these days Obelix might see someone he cared about get killed, and that could scar him badly. Their village had been lucky not to lose anyone yet, but even still…

"Couldn't we bring them round and start again?" Obelix asked, snapping the small warrior out of his thoughts.

"No, come on! It's getting late, and this feller isn't exactly dressed warmly, hehe." Obelix nodded and picked up the "Frenchman" they had rescued.


End file.
